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((With everyone trying to make amazing entrances, I figured I'd try to make a little promo for mine. If it sucks, I'm sorry. I'm improv-ing here. xd ))

The lights in the arena shut down as the titantron began to hum with life. A video began to play, showing a wrestling ring, and behind it a throne. The ring was exactly like the one in the arena; covered in gasoline, ropes wrapped in barbed wire, and turnbuckles covered in glue and broken glass. On the throne sat a tall figure, lit only by two torches beside the throne. A voice spoke quietly, as the camera flashed to a closeup of the figure. The voice was soft, and sounded like a young boy.

"They say tonight is a night of celebration... A night that history is rewritten... But they're wrong... Because this is the night where history will remain true.... On this night, the throne of Punkology has been challenged... A Dragon so bold that he has flown to the mountaintop, to challenge the great God of Punks. A Dragon, so foolish... So naive..."

The figure stood from his throne, and began to slowly walk towards the ring. A black club-looking weapon was in his hand, and torches began to spark up as he walked past them. Another voice spoke, this time sounding of a young man. This voice spoke frantically, as if it were afraid.

"Run! Fly away! Jump off the cliff, do whatever you can! Just get away, Dragon! Get away from here! Before he sees you! He'll rip you apart like everyone else! Run mortal! Save yourself!..."

The voice cut out abruptly, as the figure approached the ring. His attire was that of a true god; a red robe with plated armor over the shoulders, torso, and forearms. Servants ran forward from the shadows to pull the ropes open, letting out grunts of pain as their hands gripped the barbed wire. The tall figure climbed onto the apron, and lifted his robe as he stepped through the ropes, entering the ring unharmed. As he walked to the center of the ring, yet another voice, but this one was sinister... Cruelty hung on his every word.

"Hehe... You're at the end of your flight, Dragon boy!... Tonight, you will feel the true meaning of pain! Tonight, you will fall back down to the Earth, slain! You will NEVER rise again! Dragon, tonight YOU DIE!!! AHAHAH-..."
The voice stopped, just like the rest. Except now, there was complete silence. The figure stood in the center of the ring, a light shining down on it... The figure was none other than Matt Shanahan. He looked into the camera, his face emotionless and cold.

"It's too late for you Brandon. For tonight... Is the night of your demise. Tonight, the Dragon's wings are going to be clipped. Tonight, the Dragon will bleed out like a pig... Tonight, YOU, Brandon Damone... You will burn, and you will be slain. It's too late to run..."

The ring's apron shot up into flames, igniting the entire outside arena.

"For now... You are in my playground... You are in THE PIT! OF! HEEEEEEEEEELL!"

The God of Punks lifted his baseball bat, and crashed into the camera as thunder crackled through the air! The feed cut off, leaving the arena in darkness... With only the sound of rolling thunder to resonate through the arena...

((Posting real entrance now. ninja ))

As the thunder continued to roll through the arena, the ramp slowly began to dimly light itself. Men wearing white, hooded robes walked from the backstage area, and lined up against the sides of the ramp.

A moment passed as the men stood still, waiting silently. Suddenly, "The Ecstasy of Gold" by Ennio Morricone began to play through-out the arena. As the song played, the stage slowly opened up, and a throne began to rise from it. In the darkness, all that could be made out was the outline of the throne, and a figure sitting on it. As the throne rose completely to the stage, the song faded away.

The arena sat in silence, until the synthesizer intro to "I Rule" by Tarot played loudly. The lights flashed on in a blood red hue, the main spotlight landing on the throne.. To show the God of Punks sitting upon it, his face emotionless and cruel. His clothing was that of a greek god, much like the clothes he wore in the previous video.


((Ignore the crappyness. This is just the basic idea. ))

I was crowned a king in a womb.
tore my mother apart at birth!
Gnawed at my father's bones,
then gave them to the earth!

Bowels of a grave turned loose!
Spat out the one the reaper couldn't use!

I RULE!!!

The God of Punks stood up from his throne, and the men in white robes knelt down. He slowly began to walk down the ramp, the fans booing him along the way. Shanahan ignored them completely though, for his eyes were on Brandon Damone...

Announcer: "Ladies and gentlemen, weighing in at 326 pounds, and standing at a tall 6 feet and 8 inches... He is The God of Punks, the creator of The Pit of Hell... MATT SHANAHAAAAAAAAAN!"


I crawled into the moonlight!
The sky fixed me with its stare!
Filled me with razorteeth,
and covered me in hair!

I RULE!!!

As Shanahan reached the bottom of the ramp, the robed men stood, and walked foward. One handed Matt a black baseball bat, his signature weapon. He looked at the baseball bat, before raising it up high, signalling for something. Suddenly, lightning struck the stage and engulfed it in flames, as thunder rolled loudly!

The rest of the men ran foward and made a human staircase up to the apron, as two others pushed open the robes. The men let out grunts of pain as the barbed wire stabbed into their hands.

The holy insult at the face of all divine!
Purity of damnation is MINE!

There's a place that I must find,
in order to explode!
The hell pales beside me,
as I spill my load!

The God of Punks walked up the human stair-case and stepped through the ropes, lifting his robe in the process. Once he was in the ring, the two that held open the ropes climbed in and began to remove Shanahan's armor and robes, all while the man stared into the eyes of his opponent...

Bowels of a grave turned loose,
spat out the one the reaper couldn't use!
Time to burn the inhuman torch,
rip and slash, impale and scorch!

I RULE!!!

The men removed the rest of Shanahan's armor, and quickly climbed out of the ring. The white robed men marched backstage quickly, as the music faded away and the lights returned to normal. The God of Punks stood face to face with The Soaring Dragon... Staring him down as the announcer spoke...

Announcer: "Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is the Pit of Hell match! The ring has been modified accordingly; the apron has been soaked in gasoline, the ropes have been wrapped in barbed wire, and the turnbuckles have been covered in glass. In order to win, you must make your opponent bleed, burn them in some way, and then pin them!"

Shanahan waited for the bell to ring as he stared down at Damone...